


Fault Lines

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [13]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 23:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13938066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: Beau turns at her voice, her fault line revealed, and her grip on Caleb’s coat loosens enough for Molly to whip him out from her hands as though she will kill him any second.





	Fault Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts/ideas still open, drop em over on my [tumblr](mollymockerytealeaf.tumblr.com/ask) <3
> 
> An anon asked me for some beau/yasha so i,,,t ried, i dont have a good hold on Yasha as a character yet so whoops, sorry

Caleb watches Nott go down.   
More specifically, he watches as she’s hit at full force by a Gnoll’s heavily clawed paw, and she flies across the room, hits a wall, and flops forward, blood beginning to pool immediately. The Gnoll guffaws, eyes locked on to the tiny, prone form, and it takes one lumbering step before Caleb is moving like lightning through the air.   
At the same instant, the party explodes.   
Caleb flicks his hands around his diamond, it spins with the force of his rage and crackles with electricity, he is moving, leaping and climbing over the fallen bodies of Gnolls toward Nott’s attacker.   
Jester is flitting around the edge of the room toward Nott, Fjord is busy hilt-deep in another Gnoll’s chest, Yasha is cleaving one in half. Mollymauk and Beau turn to Caleb in the same instant Nott’s Gnoll does.   
The electric that Caleb had been summoning goes wide, crashing a stalactite from the ceiling to the floor, and Caleb stops where he stands.   
The Gnoll leers. An easy target. The diamond clatters to the floor as the Gnoll raises one terrible paw for Caleb’s death toll.   
“ _ Caleb! _ ” Beau screeches, inhuman, moving and leaping and she’s there, grabbing Caleb by the collar and wrenching with all her strength, and the Gnoll’s razor claws nick the lapels of Caleb’s coat as its prey is pulled away. Beau uses the momentum and turns, a hand, an arm around Caleb’s waist, she lifts and throws him like a ragdoll across the room.   
“Molly!” She manages, and the tiefling drops both of his scimitars and they clatter as Caleb lands on him, he stumbles, and they fall, bruised but not dead. A smudge of blood from Molly’s collarbone rubs onto Caleb’s cheek as he takes a split second of respite to lie his head there and take a deep breath of lavender and copper scent. Molly pats his back gently.   
“You alright? You here?”   
“ _ Ja. _ ” Caleb huffs. Molly pats harder.   
“Alright, good. Up, up, up!”   
They pull themselves to their feet to find Beau locked in combat with the Gnoll that had almost filleted Caleb, it’s almost a dance with the way she deflects the claws with her staff and knees upwards, her off hand taking its jaw in an uppercut and throwing its head back. They hear a snap crack through the chamber, whiplike, and the Gnoll collapses in a boneless pile on the floor. Beau turns, her face spattered with blood, to Caleb and Molly. She moves, like lightning, like wind, and she’s grabbing Caleb’s coat collar and in his face.   
“You fuckin’  _ idiot _ .” She spits at him, rage and concern indistinguishable from one another in the fire in her eyes. “How could you do that? Step right in front of it? Are you  _ empty _ inside that head, Caleb?”   
“Beau.” Molly steps up, and she turns her eyes to him, snarling like a wild animal.   
“Don’t  _ you _ start, Mollymauk, where were you? You should have been  _ on him _ .”   
“Beauregard.” This from Yasha, slowly making her way across the room, using her greatsword as a walking aid. Blood is leaking slowly from three parallel gashes in her thigh.   
Beau turns at her voice, her fault line revealed, and her grip on Caleb’s coat loosens enough for Molly to whip him out from her hands as though she will kill him any second. He puts Caleb behind him, his hand lingers on Caleb’s arm, Caleb’s forehead hits his shoulder blade as he sighs and lets his shoulders drop.   
“Yasha, your leg.” Beau moves the last few feet to the aasimar, dropping to one knee at the last second to press her fingertips lightly to Yasha’s wounds. Yasha hisses in pain.   
“Jester, can you-?”   
“No, I can’t. I’m almost tapped from putting Nott’s outsides back into insides, you’ll have to do it yourself.” She gestures to the medical pack, thrown open beside her, one hand covered in Nott’s blood and over what is undoubtedly a pile of gore on the goblin’s small form.   
“Sit.” Beau demands of Yasha, and she obeys exhaustedly whilst Beau flickers over to the medical pack to find provisions for sutures.   
“I gotta- how do I clean it?” Beau asks Jester.   
“Take Nott’s flask.” Jester replies, her mouth set in a grim line. There is a tantrum in her brewing, the force of which could probably detonate the entire cave system, and Beau takes the flask with the offhand thought that they should get out before Jester explodes.   
She makes her way back to Yasha and kneels again.   
“This will hurt.” She warns, meeting Yasha’s eyes reassuringly, and Yasha nods and raises her knuckle to her lips. Beau heaves a sigh,   
“Now there’s a sight.” she comments, and pours whatever concoction of alcohol Nott has accumulated onto the wound. Yasha peeps, but catches it and bites down on her knuckle. Blood seeps from between her teeth, and her leg trembles, but she stays otherwise still and lets Beau’s nimble fingers stab into her as she sutures the wound closed, messily, but well enough to hold. It takes her almost ten minutes, in which time Molly and Caleb have moved to the side of the cave beside Nott and Jester, and perhaps they think that Jester is too preoccupied to notice that their hands are clasped under their coats, but she isn’t.   
Nott’s insides have been effectively restored to their position, but Jester ends up tapped out of clerical power before she can use it to close the wounds, so she has to settle for another set of sutures. These, she completes much faster, much neater than Beau, simple stitches pulled tight at the end.   
Caleb leans into Molly’s shoulder, exhausted, blood spattered, and Molly rests his cheek on the top of Caleb’s head. They sit, they watch, Jester pulls the last stitch closed and sits back on her heels, wiping sweat from her forehead and smearing blood there instead, the tips of her bangs weighed down with the same thick, red liquid. She groans.   
Beau stands.   
“Done!” She proclaims, triumphant, and Yasha looks down at her own leg. Blood is no longer oozing from the wound, which is probably a good thing, and she stands and leans in to Beau, kisses her cheek gently.   
“Thank you.”   
“Now,” Fjord pipes up, “I think we should be gettin’ on outta here before Jester explodes, an’ buries us where we sit.”   
“Is that the last of the Gnolls?” Molly asks, standing. The hand clasped in Caleb’s grip is slid slightly sideways, masked by his coat.   
“I believe so.” Fjord nods, and stoops to pick Nott up from the floor. “Now let’s go get some sunlight an’ gold.”   
The group picks themselves up and moves slowly out of the caves, Yasha with her arm around Beau’s shoulders under guise of walking support, Caleb and Molly near shoulder-to-shoulder. Their hands, inconspicuously, fingers interlocked, laced together. Terrified to let go.   
Jester watches intently from the back of the group. 

They have the issue, when they return, of rooms. They didn’t expect Yasha with them, hadn’t thought about the issue, until they were halfway up the stairs and Beau stops dead.   
She crawl along the wall past Caleb and Molly, to Jester, and they have a short, whispered conversation. Jester pouts, but nods, and Beau moves back up to Yasha as Jester claps for attention.   
“Molly, I’m taking your spot in Fjord’s room.” She tells him, and Molly opens his mouth to protest, but she shushes him and pushes past. She coerces Fjord into handing Nott over, and nobody notices that Yasha and Beau are already gone, away to their room. Jester carries Nott to Molly and Caleb, forcing Molly to let go of Caleb’s hand for the first time since he was thrown to take the goblin hurriedly from Jester.   
“See you in the morning.” She tells him, firmly, grimly, takes two steps up the stairs and then turns to glance at him over her shoulder. He catches a glint of mischief in her eyes.   
“Not too loud, now, Nott needs to rest.”   
“Fuck off.” Molly tells her, but he’s smiling a little, so she bounds up the stairs and pulls Fjord along with her by the wrist. They disappear around a corner, and a door closes a few moments later.   
“Alone at last.” Caleb comments with a sigh, tucking one hand into the crook of Molly’s arm, stroking Nott’s hair gently with the other. “Let’s get Nott to bed, it looks like you’re with us tonight.”   
“No objections.” Molly smiles, and leans over to kiss Caleb’s temple gently.   
They set Nott in her bed to rest. She prefers the bed beside the window, even Caleb doesn’t really know why. He tucks her in, and leans down to kiss her forehead. When he steps away, Molly does the same.   
Molly helps Caleb to unbuckle and take off his holster and boots, Caleb slides Molly’s shirt up his arms and off his body, they pack their things in neat piles under the bed.   
“I need to, um.” Molly gestures to his scimitars, and Caleb nods understandingly before he can finish.   
“I’ll be in bed.” And he kisses him. Molly sighs into it, and smiles when Caleb pulls away.   
“I love you.” He tells him, and Caleb ghosts a hand up Molly’s waist,   
“I love you too.”

 

Two rooms down, Yasha flops onto the bed, groaning. “Ow.”   
“You alright?” Beau asks as she locks the door behind them. Yasha gives a pained groan in response.   
“Weren’t you staying with Jester?” She asks, and Beau pales a little, “You picked a double bed?”   
“Yeah, uh,” Beau struggles to find words, “I, uh, Jester… prefers company when she’s sleepin’, grew up alone, kinda clingy.”   
“She’s adorable.” Yasha replies simply, and Beau breathes a sigh of relief.   
“Yeah, I’d kill for her.” She tells Yasha, and watches her smile a little in response. “Anyway, I don’t mind sleepin’ on the floor if you, uh, if you want?”   
Yasha eyes her, scrutinising, and Beau feels as though she’s been stripped naked under the intense gaze.   
“No, stay with me.” She says, eventually, once she’s reduced Beau from confident to quivering before her. It’s unintentional, but she can’t help feeling a little proud of herself, as Beau crosses the room quickly to climb up beside her.   
“Hey, just so we’re on even footing here,” Beau starts as she crawls onto the bed on her hands and knees, “You’re, uh. You are flirting with me, right?”   
Yasha blinks at her once and turns onto her side, wincing as she lies on the wounds from earlier,   
“I’m trying.”   
Beau gives an elated laugh and crawls up to her, snuggles her way into Yasha’s arms, and looks at her as if she is a heavenly body.    
(Well, she is technically  _ celestial _ but… the metaphor is still there.)   
(Yasha is perfect. That’s what she’s getting at,)   
  


Between the rooms of the sleeping couples, Jester flops herself diagonally across Fjord’s torso and sighs loudly.   
“You quite comfortable there, Jester?” He asks, patting her shoulder, and she sighs again,   
“I miss Beau.” She tells him honestly, and he chuckles as he lies back and lets Jester wriggle around into the most comfortable position, which is mostly lying on him.   
“You can see her an’ Yasha in the mornin’, for now, get some rest.”   
“Yes, I suppose.” He feels her relax, loosen against his body, and silence takes over as they, too, let sleep take them away.


End file.
